Luck Be A Lady
by simplyobsessed09
Summary: Rachel Berry wants Broadway and is willing to take it in whatever form she can. At this point in her life, that means standing outside in the cold with hopes of winning herself a discounted ticket to a show. The woman she meets while there is just an added perk. AU one shot.


New York City had always been Rachel Berry's goal in life. Regardless of how she got there, or what she did upon arrival, the city itself was the place Rachel knew she was destined to be. Following her acceptance into NYADA, her top pick of a school, the pieces quickly fell into place and nearly two months after the move Rachel is still reeling in the life that has somehow become hers.

Though she isn't unfamiliar with struggle, balancing her classes, rehearsals, her roommate, and the overwhelming desire to attend as many Broadway shows as her bank account will allow, there isn't a single aspect of her life she would change. On the agenda for today is _The Book of Mormon_ , a musical that still holds a special place in Rachel's heart despite it's overwhelming popularity. As much as she likes to pretend she's above the average theatre goer in her choice of show, today she just wants to sit back and have a nice laugh after surviving a particularly stressful week.

The walk from her subway stop to The Eugene O'Neill Theatre is rather short and, as the bright lights of the theatre district come into view, the familiar bubble of excitement makes itself known. Playing the lottery for the show doesn't guarantee her a ticket—and being a student doesn't allow much wiggle room when it comes to full priced seats—but Rachel is fairly confident that her name will be drawn as she bounces down the sidewalk.

There is already a nice sized crowd gathered under the marquee but Rachel has discovered that her petite size can be used to her advantage in such a busy city. She squeezes herself down a nonexistent path towards the doorway to enter the lottery draw. A flash of her NYADA student ID and her signature on a piece of paper later, Rachel works her way back towards the outskirts of the group to find somewhere to stand for the next 30 minutes until the winners are drawn.

As per usual when she plays the lottery, Rachel scans the crowd in search of others who may be there alone. As each winner is allowed to purchase two discounted tickets, finding a partner doubles her chances of seeing the show and will perhaps give her someone to talk with for a while. Despite attending a theatre school, she has yet to find anyone willing to tag along on such outings, though she has a suspicion that it has more to do with who she is than the shows she attends.

While her fathers have chalked it up to jealousy, Rachel can't help but wonder if the kids at her high school had a point when they pushed her into lockers and threw their lunches in her face.

Bringing her focus back to the task at hand, it appears as though everyone around her has already paired off and Rachel chastises herself for not arriving earlier. Her dance class had run later than scheduled and, never one to question an instructor (especially when that instructor was as incredibly intimidating as Ms. July), Rachel stayed the extra twenty minutes and ended up having to rush her shower routine to make it to the theatre at all.

Just as she is about to accept defeat, a blonde woman standing alone against the far corner of the theatre wall catches her attention. She appears to be around Rachel's age, given her baggy NYU sweater, and her shaggy haircut has Rachel intrigued. Without taking a second to rethink her decision, she bounds towards the woman who is too focused on her phone to notice anyone approaching.

"Are you here alone?" is what comes to mind but, when the woman turns to her with a curious look on her face, Rachel has to wonder if she is being too forward. "For the lottery," she clarifies. "If you win you can buy two tickets so if you're alone I was wondering if you wanted to pair up with me. I'm Rachel, by the way."

Still looking slightly confused, the blonde woman gives her a nod. "That would be great, Rachel," she smiles, though her voice is riddled with trepidation. "I'm Quinn."

"What a pretty name," Rachel muses, unaware that she has spoken the words out loud until Quinn lets out a chuckle along with a mumbled ' _thanks'_.

Focusing her attention on the gathering crowd, Rachel tries her best to calm herself down and erase the embarrassment from her mind. Quinn's attention returns to her phone and Rachel makes herself promise that she will not disturb the girl again.

Finding her own phone stashed away in her purse, Rachel checks her emails and the few texts Kurt had send her that morning. The boy had become her friend in high school but they had grown closer through their move to the city, neither knowing another soul. While Rachel has failed in adding any friends to her very short list, Kurt has blossomed in his surroundings, and it has become increasingly difficult to speak with him in a form that isn't aided by technology. Rachel would be lying if she said his company wasn't dearly missed but she would never tell Kurt the truth.

His messages are nothing special, just an update on his life and a few questions regarding her own, but Rachel is unable to find the words to respond so she shoves the phone back into her purse and thinks of anything else she could possibly do to pass the time. It is then that she notices her partner has also abandoned her phone and, always one for conversation, Rachel finds herself unable to hold back any longer.

"What are you studying?" she asks, pointing to the sweater.

Raising her head to meet Rachel's gaze, Quinn shoves her hands deep into its pockets. "Literature. I'm only a freshman but I'm hoping to become a writer. I know a lot of people think it's not the best choice of major but…" she shrugs her shoulders, not sure what else to say.

Rachel is more than familiar with the speech Quinn must be referring to, the one everyone seems to give at the mention of her own major—as if she would ever ask their opinion on the matter—and she lets her know as much.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Rachel says with a laugh, now more interested than ever in the other woman. "I'm a theatre major, which is like the bottom of the bucket, even when it comes to the arts."

Noticing the widening of Quinn's eyes at the admission, Rachel finds herself unsure of how to continue but not wanting their conversation to end so abruptly. Thankfully, Quinn pipes in. "So the other side of the curtain is where you really want to be?"

"Absolutely," is her instant response. "I'm sure you feel the same when you pick up a book; just the rush of adrenaline in thinking, _'what if.'_ "

Shaking her head, Quinn lets out a nervous chuckle. "It's more like complete distress and a sucker punch to my self-confidence, but I can appreciate the sentiment."

"If you choose to focus on the negative," Rachel chastises, to which Quinn responds by nudging her shoulder against Rachel's. Her voice catches and it takes a moment for her to continue. "I'm sure you will make a fine writer, Quinn, and I will be certain to look out for you; when you finally decide to give me your last name, that is."

The eye roll that follows doesn't even shock Rachel, and she is pleased when Quinn answers her question. "It's Fabray."

"Well, I will be sure to keep myself updated. If you ever feel the same inclination, just type Rachel Berry into your search bar and be amazed at what you find. I mean, wait a few years but it will happen all the same."

Furrowing her brow, Quinn stares at Rachel with an intensity that makes her stomach flip in anticipation. Then a nod. "And, somehow, I don't doubt it," Quinn replies.

After that, conversation flows easily between the two. Though Rachel speaks with her fathers and Kurt on a regular basis, it feels nice to talk with someone who doesn't constantly question how she is adjusting to city life and whether her classes are too difficult. Getting to know the other woman turns out to be an enjoyable process for Rachel, not merely a way to pass the time; one glance at Quinn and Rachel finds it hard to believe it's too torturous for her either.

"So, Quinn Fabray, have you seen the show before?" Rachel asks, rocking back and forth on her toes both in an attempt to keep them warm as well as to calm the swelling nerves she is having an increasingly hard time attributing to the upcoming draw.

Standing next to Quinn would be enough to make anyone sweat, regardless of whether they were attracted to the female gender. Being an openly bisexual woman, it just makes the whole experience much more nerve wracking for Rachel.

With a shake of her head, Quinn tells her that she hasn't. "I've only been in the city for a few weeks; this is the first chance I've had to come to up here. I've heard some really great things about this show though, so I figured this might be a good first."

"You've never seen a Broadway show?" There isn't even an attempt to mask the mixture of shock and horror that paints the question.

"I come from a family that basically disapproves of anything enjoyable," Quinn explains with a huff. "Which is why I took out money from the bank before coming here, I wouldn't put it past my father to review my statements and then lecture me on wasting both my time and money."

A gasp threatens to escape Rachel's lips at the admission, unable to even fathom life without theatre, but even she is able to recognize that as being too dramatic.

"My fathers and I would make a point to come here at least once a year, theatre is very important to our family," Rachel explains. "I have actually seen this show previously with them, back before it swept the Tony Awards which I'm sure is the only reason they were able to afford full priced tickets for the three of us."

Quinn's attention begins to wane after that but Rachel takes no offence as she is rather used to others only listening to her with one ear. As she continues, however, annoyance turns to anger as she finds herself wondering if the blank stare on Quinn's face is nothing more than a mask for her uncomfortable reaction at the mention of her fathers.

Never one to let such a thing pass unacknowledged, Rachel immediately jumps to her fathers' defense.

"Do you have a problem with my fathers, Quinn?" she all but demands, her voice growing stern. A part of her understands that she is being completely unreasonable and somewhat unfair to Quinn, but experience has proven this not to be something one should approach lightly. "Because if you have an issue with the queer community I can assure you that this is not the show for you to see nor am I the partner you should have if you are going to be such a, such an _intolerant person_."

Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she catches her breath, barely noticing the stares she has earned from the others nearby. Some of her best speeches are the result of her rage black outs and there is a part of her that can't wait to hear what she comes up with next. Yet, before she has the chance to continue, a tingling sensation on her arm steals her attention as well as her train of though. Looking down, she spots Quinn's hand nudging her forearm.

"Rachel, Rachel," Quinn tries to stop her with a shake of her head. "I have nothing against gay people, I am very much gay myself. Just calm down."

There is a bite to her tone and it sends both woman into a silent pause, each using it to regain their bearings. A simple _'oh'_ escapes from Rachel's lips but nothing more, knowing she owes Quinn this opportunity to speak before she apologizes profusely. Sometimes it's hard to remember that not everybody is out to get her.

"But I am from Ohio and gay people are basically mythical creatures to me, so hearing you talk about your fathers in such a positive light kind of rocked me a bit," she tries to clarify now that she has been given the chance. "There was literally one other gay kid in my town and everyone made sure we knew it. I didn't mean to upset you, okay? This is just one aspect of living here that is going to take some adjusting to on my part, I just have to keep kicking the voice in the back of my head that sounds suspiciously like my pastor."

Though Rachel understands that last part was meant as a joke to lighten the sullen mood, there is no pushing the guilt from her mind.

"I apologize, Quinn. Truly, I was out of line." Her words come out in quick succession, as if explaining things faster will somehow prevent the woman from leaving. "It was rude and completely childish to attack you like that. Again, I'm very sorry and I would understand if you wish to leave now. You're sexuality is none of my business, it has nothing to do with me."

She watches as Quinn takes in the apology before arching an eyebrow with practiced perfection. "Oh really?"

The question causes more confusion for Rachel, trying to digest the complete turn of mood this conversation has so quickly taken. Quinn no longer sounds upset—not that she ever seemed particularly angry at Rachel, just annoyed—and that almost seemed like…Rachel has to stop herself. _Was that flirting?_

"You look hot when you get all defensive," Quinn continues, causing Rachel to huff in response. It is the only way she can keep herself from swooning; a very attractive woman is most definitely flirting with her. "No, seriously. Aside from the fact that you practically jumped down my throat, I think it's pretty amazing that you're so willing to stand up for something you are passionate about. Especially considering I could have taken you out in a second if it came down to that."

"As if," she scoffs, only half joking. "I am a trained dancer, Quinn; my muscles are much larger than they appear."

"And I have four national cheerleading titles under my belt."

Accepting that she has been bested is not an option, so Rachel is quick to change the topic of conversation to something much more neutral. She catches herself watching Quinn as they speak, trying to get a read on the woman, and hoping she will somehow reveal her true intentions. They keep the conversation light but Quinn doesn't hold back with the playful banter; she almost appears more relaxed after their slight disagreement which inversely makes Rachel an even biggest nervous wreck than previously.

By the time the name of the first winner is announced, a completely new wave of anxious nerves settles over the duo. This time in anticipation.

"This is exciting," Quinn proclaims, turning to face Rachel with a smile.

The group huddles together to better hear the announcements so, in an attempt not to lose the taller girl, Rachel links their arms together and pulls Quinn close to her body. After that, it takes about five or six names for Rachel's focus to return to the man at the front—her body reacting to Quinn's in ways she never intended—but her partner seems to have it under control as her focus is dead-set on the theatre door.

When Quinn turns and catches her staring, Rachel is quick to advert her eyes which causes Quinn to chuckle. Scuffing the toe of her boot against the pavement, Rachel has to swallow her embarrassment yet again. Something about Quinn has brought out this awkward side of her and Rachel remains unable to decide whether that is a good thing or not.

...

As more winners are announced, shrieks of excitement are let out, and the group dwindles down to about half of what originally stood. Noting the dying enthusiasm of her own partner, Rachel leans up to her ear to inform her that she is kind of psychic so she knows one of their names are going to be called. Though it may be attributed to the cool air of the afternoon, Rachel swears she feels a shiver run through Quinn's body as her breath makes contact with the sensitive skin.

"We'll see," Quinn whispers back and Rachel's eyes lull shut at the sensation of the woman's breath on her own skin.

Before Rachel can read any more into the encounter, the announcer calls for their attention and she is broken out of her daze. "Okay, guys. Sorry to have to do this to you but we only have two tickets left," he informs the group, sifting through the fish bowl of names. "If our next winner wants both, this will be it for today so I just want to thank you all for coming out and let you know that standing room tickets will be available for tonight's performance as soon as we finish up here."

With that, he plucks a single piece of paper from the pile and reads the name out loud. Rachel barely has time to register the familiar sound of her own name before Quinn starts pushing her forward.

"Rachel Berry, I take it?" the man asks as Rachel stumbles in front of him. Looking over her shoulder, she is able to spot a grinning Quinn giving her a thumbs up, at which she has to laugh.

"That would be me." Showing the man her ID for a second time, she tells him that she would like both tickets much to the dismay of the others around her. Their disappointment goes unacknowledged by Rachel, however, who is distracted by the feeling of two strong arms engulfing her from behind.

"Not sure if I believe the whole psychic thing, but you do have some pretty great luck," Quinn tells her, moving to stand by Rachel's side as they enter the building to pay for the tickets.

A snaky response wills its way onto Rachel's lips but she finds herself biting back her retort. Not only does Quinn have a way with words, she also has a way with Rachel—who has accepted that the end result will never work in her favour if she is to go against Quinn.

The total comes to 65 dollars, the woman behind the counter tells them, a very reasonable price for two tickets to such a renowned show, but Quinn stops Rachel from paying as she places a couple of bills on the counter. Quick to object, Rachel pulls her own wallet from her purse but Quinn is persistent and shakes it off.

"I wouldn't even be seeing this show if it wasn't for you," Quinn explains, taking back her change. "Besides, 65 dollars is still cheap for a single ticket, let alone two."

Surveying the woman's face, Rachel lets out a sigh and plucks both tickets from the employee's hand. She would allow Quinn to pay for her ticket if she was so insistent, but on one condition.

"You must let me take you out for food then," Rachel offers, though she doesn't allow much room for Quinn to deny. "It's still 2 hours until curtain and I planned my dinner for this period. You could join me if you want?"

As she passes Quinn her ticket, Rachel spots a slight tremor of her own hand and hopes the other woman hasn't noticed just how nervous she's become. Her confidence seems to have disappeared somewhere between jumping down Quinn's throat and Quinn telling her she looked hot.

When an answer doesn't immediately follow, Rachel fears she may have said something to further embarrass herself.

"I would love to join you, Rachel," Quinn finally agrees, letting out a deep breath. The look of relief on Rachel's face is enough to make her smile and Rachel returns the gesture.

As they make their way out of the theatre and back onto the busy streets, the two are walking close enough that Quinn's arm brushes against Rachel's every couple of steps. Though both Quinn's sweater and Rachel's thick jacket stand between them, the surge of electricity that runs through Rachel is undeniable. A rush of boldness suddenly takes over and, before she has a chance to talk herself out of it, Rachel elaborates on her previous question.

"Please tell me if I am out of line here, but would it be too bold to assume you would have accepted had I used the word date? If I have read this entire afternoon wrong, I apologize I just…"

She trails off at the sight of Quinn's blushing face, but her smile doesn't falter. Quinn's hand barely has to move to find hers, her nimble fingers entwining with her own, and Rachel's body relaxes at the touch. She releases a breath of relief.

"A date doesn't sound too bad about now. It's been a while for me," Quinn deadpans, though her coolness is betrayed by the bright grin on her face.

"Oh, so you're using me now?" Rachel jokes, leading them in the direction of a nearby diner. "First for a ticket and now for my company, I feel like I should be offended."

"But you can't be," Quinn grins, tightening her grip on Rachel's hand. "You, Rachel Berry, are by far the most interesting thing I have found in this entire city—which is saying something considering where we are."

"The same could be said about you," Rachel replies, rolling her eyes at her own corniness.

"Besides, you used me first," Quinn reminds her. "I was minding my own business when you came barrelling over, asking if you could be my plus one if my name happened to be drawn."

"Such a minuscule detail," she scoffs as they continue their journey, hand in hand.

For the first time since her arrival in the city, the racing thoughts inside Rachel's head noticeably slow; yielding to allow for a moment of clarity. Basking in her present, she takes note of the beautiful girl on her arm, one who appears genuinely interested in her as a person. Every aspect of her life has somehow fallen into place since her arrival in the city and, while Quinn herself appears to be a piece to her puzzle, Rachel cannot shake the feeling that perhaps she is one of the more important. Strangers they may be, but that fails to curb Rachel's overwhelming urge to absorb everything that makes Quinn Fabray who she is.

Maybe Rachel Berry didn't need to change anything about her life to be happy, but that didn't mean she wouldn't readily accept some change in the form of Quinn Fabray.

* * *

 **A/N: First post on here in a while. Sorry about that.**


End file.
